


Luck be a Lady

by amelia



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Dancing, Drag Queens, F/M, M/M, Other, Tenth Doctor Era, because David Tennant in drag is hilarious, davina - Freeform, post-coe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia/pseuds/amelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna wants to go out dancing and find a night of romance, so the Doctor dresses in drag to chaperone her. He's in for a surprise when he runs into a certain Captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Doctor Who, Season 4, sometime before "Silence in the Library," and after Torchwood "Children of Earth."

Donna was in the Console room tearing pages out of her book. “Rubbish. Rubbish. Flippin’ rubbish!” She mumbled to herself as she tossed the grey pages onto the floor. She’d been reading, watching the blue light of the Tardis move up and down, and getting restless for too long. 

Not that the Doctor had been doing the washing up for all that long, or that she was bored with their life. It was just tough to live in a ship with no neighbors and only one friend. She could phone home, and talk to her family, but they’d never understand. She could call her mates, but all the idle gossip seemed so far away now. Then again, if all she could talk about were painting her toes and stopping by for chips, they might never notice the difference.

The Doctor’s voice called to her, carrying down the corridor even before he made it into the room. “Donna! All’s clean! Ready to go!” he said in sing-song, as his footsteps skipped down the hall.

“Thanks, Time Boy!” she called back, then threw her book behind her till it landed on the other side of the room. She sighed and dropped her chin into her hand.

Sure enough, he came bounding into the room without even noticing the mess. “Where do you want to go next?” he asked, dancing up to her. He looked at the Tardis screen, tooted a horn, and pulled a lever. “See the crab nebula? Meet Galileo?” 

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes but couldn’t help grin at him–-which just encouraged him. “Oh, I know! Visit the Old West, meet Johnny Appleseed! Walk through some apple orchards, dance a do-si-do?” Seeing her face, his smile dropped. “No?” He ruffled his hands through his hair. 

Donna stood up and walked over to him. “Oi, you skinny bloke,” she said, “Don’t you ever fancy a holiday from all your death-defying holidays?”

“What?” The Doctor pouted like she’d stolen his puppy.

“We can’t just keep scamperin’ about indefinitely, gettin’ stuck in cupboards together and running from giant bees an’ things.”

“And why not, then?”

“Well, first off, what’s the bloody good of all these adventures when I don’t have anyone to call up and chat with about ‘em? Secondly, a girl’s gonna get ideas!”

The Doctor’s mouth dropped open. “Going to what now?”

“A girl has needs, you know,” Donna flashed him a seductive smile, and smoothing down his lapels.

The Doctor stumbled back from her touch, all color dropping from his already-pale cheeks. “What!?”

“Oi, I don’t mean you, Time Boy.”

“I’m not following.” His face had turned grim.

“I just want to go dancin’, out to a proper club,” she said. “Meet a real man, have some fun. Night on the town, you know? Just one night, then we can go–square dance with Galileo, or pick apples in the crab nebula.” She gave him a little grin.

“Donna, there’s no orchards in the crab nebula!” he said. “Though we could teach Galileo to square dance. Best not, though. Timelines.” His voice was troubled, and he flicked a button on the Tardis, as if deep in thought.

Donna tilted her head and put her hand on her hip, waiting. 

The Doctor turned away from her, ran a hand through his hair and crossed his arms. “You want me to take you to pick up real men?” 

“Oi, don’t be like that!” Donna slapped his shoulder, and his gaze followed her hand. “You’re my best mate,” she said. “But I’m a grown woman here. Can’t live off those trashy romance novels, even if they do have some kinky demons in ‘em.”

“So that’s what all this is, then?” He shuffled the papers at his feet with a little smile. 

“Yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to answer, but she continued. “I want a proper English club, not one of those demon bars in the stars, mind you.”

“Demon bars in the stars?” The Doctor grinned but turned away quickly, fiddling with the dials. 

Donna rolled her eyes. There he went again-–just needed something to do with his awkward hands. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone dancing to meet someone.”

“Donna,” he said, scratching his neck. “I may travel alone, but I’ve never been a monk.” He leaned down and picked up a page from the floor. He scanned over it, his mouth moving with the words, looking disturbed. Then he read aloud from a particularly choice line, his voice rising. “ _She trembled with need as he pushed his turgid manhood in her dripping juice box._ Where do you find this nonsense!”

He opened his mouth and tried to continue, but when he glanced at her, both of them burst out with laughter. He tried to contain himself after a minute, but as soon as he looked at her again, they both continued laughing, until they were clutching the console railing with tears streaming down their faces. 

“See what I mean?” she said. “That's not sex, it's--"

"Disgusting." 

"Doctor–-" she reached out and took hold of his hand. 

He tossed the page aside and rubbed his eyes, pulling her over to him in a quick hug. “Oh, Donna. Remind me to find you some real books. And a real man.”

Donna nudged him, with a grin. “So, there’s hormones in there after all, Time Boy?”

“Oh, yes!” His grin turned mischievous, and he turned back to adjusting the Tardis. “So, dancing, London, year 2010. Will that do?”

Donna clapped her hands, “I’ll need some time to get dressed up properly.”

“Of course--we both will!”

“Oi, now!” Donna put one hand on her hip. “You’re not coming with me. Everyone will think we’re a couple!”

“Course I am!” he said. “Not letting you take off with some random bloke without at least giving him a warning look first.”

“Oi!” She huffed. 

“But I could,” he ran a hand through his hair, “try something a little different.”

She looked at him sceptically. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your fun.” His grin twisted up whimsically, and she could see a little spark in his eye. 

“Oi, what are you up to?” She cocked her head and looked at him.

“Oh, honey.” He put an arm around her, “What you need is a lady friend.”

“What? You’re not–-you can’t.”

The Doctor swung out a hip and gestured at her with his hand. “Oi, Donna love, give me just five little minutes in the wardrobe.”

“But–-“

“Ta!” And with that, he flounced off, leaving Donna to lean on the rail, staring after him.

“What on Earth have I started?” she asked the Tardis. But the usual glow and hum was all she got in response, so she sighed and headed off to her room.

\--

She was ready and waiting in the Console room for 20 minutes, before she heard him in the corridor. Not the usual soft shuffle of his trainers, but a clacking noise that made her say, “Oh no!” before she even saw him. She gaped as she saw his red platform heels, long pale legs, clingy black dress with a little bust shape, and jet black wig. He gave her a little grin and waved, walking down the steps carefully. She noticed his arms were bare-–elegant, pale arms with little freckles.

Donna’s jaw dropped, she put a hand to her mouth, and shrieked. “No! Oh, no, Doctor!” 

The Doctor walked toward her, swinging his hips–-or maybe that was just the only way he could walk in such outrageous heels-–and he did a little twirl. Donna bent over double, her laughter booming off the walls and echoing through the Tardis.

“Just call me Liz,” the Doctor grinned, showing off all his pearly whites. As he drew closer, she saw he was wearing smoky black eye shadow and red lipstick, and had shaved–-his face was baby-smooth. In his hands, he held a little black clutch, the perfect accessory to the most ridiculous outfit she’d ever seen on her Time Lord. 

Donna grabbed him by the arm, leaning into him with laughter. His skin was cool to her touch, and it felt like more than she’d ever touched of him. He laughed too, swinging her around. “What do you think, love? Will I do as your companion?”

“Oi, Doctor, I’m going to have to fix my make-up!” She’d laughed so hard, tears streamed down her face.

“Well, you just take all the time you need, darling,” he said, in his best high-pitched girly voice, and she burst into laughter again. Dropping down into his regular voice, he continued, “If you keep laughing, you’re going to hurt poor Lizzie’s feelings.”

“Doctor-–Liz?–-you can’t be serious about this?”

“Why not?” he pouted. “I want to meet a real man too, and find out what all this excitement’s about!”

“Oi!” She just gaped at him, not daring to ask any questions. “Just so long’s you don’t take me somewhere where all the blokes are on your team.”

He snorted. “Hardly my intention--I’ll be your wingman.”

She gave him another sceptical look but didn’t argue. “Let me just finish getting ready then,” she said, running off down the corridor. 

“Brilliant!”

He could hear her giggling down the hall, and her high-pitched peals of laughter when she found what a mess he’d made of the wardrobe room. He started adjusting the dials and pulling the levers for their landing-–heaven knew he couldn’t steer with both his feet and his hands now, in these heels and dress. Now that would give her a sight and something to laugh about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor lays down the rules for Donna and orders a fruity drink.

“Rule One,” the Doctor whispered in Donna’s ear, as he led her down the dark London street. “Don’t bring anyone into the Tardis without blindfolding him first.”

“Blindfoldin’ ‘im!” She tried to pull away to get a proper look at him, but his arm was wrapped tightly around her.

“Rule Two,” he continued. “No swannin’ off to some random bloke’s house or motel without my explicit permission. Got it?”

She shook her head but grinned. “For my best mate, you’re soundin’ rather possessive.”

“You’re my companion, Donna. My responsibility.” There he was–-the Doctor’s dark voice underneath all that make-up and girly dress--the arrogant megalomaniac that he was. The brilliant, hilarious megalomaniac.

She could feel his fingers on her shoulder, clutched tighter, as he tensed for an argument. But she gave in. “All right.” To her own surprise, she rather liked him being protective of her. 

The Doctor led her right up to the bouncer at the door, ignoring the line. “Oh, hello! Why, look, we have special tickets tonight!”

“Just get in line.” The heavy, tattooed bloke gave the Doctor a once-over and raised an eyebrow.

Then the Doctor opened the psychic paper, and the bloke took another look, opened his mouth and stuttered. “Well, I’ll be. Pass from the manager himself.” He let his eyes wander over the Doctor again, then grinned up at Donna. “Lucky ladies. Didn’t know he had a thing for-–well, have a good time.” He stamped their hands and waved them by.

Donna and the Doctor giggled as they stepped in the club. It was mostly dark inside, red lights glowing down over the bar, and a strobe illuminating the dance floor. 

“Drinks, first?” The Doctor pulled Donna’s arm, and they slid up to the barstools. 

“What’ll it be, ladies?” The bartender saw Donna first-–or, rather her breasts, she thought-–then his gaze settled on the Doctor as if he wasn’t sure what to make of him.

“Something fruity?” grinned the Doctor, raising an eyebrow at Donna.

“Oh, yeah,” Donna grinned back.

The bartender grumbled and turned around. “You ladies and your fruity drinks.”

“You have a problem with fruity drinks?” the Doctor asked, when the barkeep turned around with two martini glasses full of something layered pink and green. 

The bartender grunted. “Not so long as you pay-–but I prefer your friend here.”

He leered at Donna–-or rather, her breasts--and she stifled a giggle. “Oi, barkeep, my eyes are up here.”

“So what?” he answered. “That’ll be seven quid each. You want to open a tab?”

“Sure do,” said the Doctor breathily, handing over a card, as he splayed his fingers out, lifting his pinky with a flair of drama. 

Donna gaped at him, and as the bartender turned back around to get their drinks, the Doctor leaned toward her. “Something wrong, darling?”

“You–-you’ve done this before!” 

“Sure have, but it’s been a long time. Needed for disguise on some all-female planets.“

“All-female planets? Planets of nuns?”

“Oh, no!” the Doctor laughed. “Nothin’ like that. So!” he smiled, turning around, “See anyone you like?” 

The Doctor tried not to make a face as he sipped his drink–-too sweet, really. But then, he’d always liked sweet candy, jelly babies, jammie dodgers. And fruity drinks fit Liz better than, say, Scotch on the rocks, which was what he’d been drinking last he’d been in a bar. With Jack and Martha, if he remembered correctly.

Beside him, Donna was slowly taking apart every man in the room, and the Doctor had to admire her thoroughness. “Not him, he’s too, I don’t know, shabby. And all _those_ blokes are here together, not a good sign. Ooh,” she finally squealed. “Him? Over there? Dark skin, good nose?”

The Doctor wrinkled his face. Was she making fun of his own nose? But he had to admit the bloke she’d gestured to was quite different than himself–-muscled, almost heavy, chocolate skin. He was chatting up a bloke, then a lady. “I don’t much like the look of him,” the Doctor told Donna, wrinkling his nose.

She elbowed him with a peal of laughter. “Course you don’t, Time Boy!”

“Hush, up, Donna, that’s Time Girl to you!” he whispered to her, raising an eyebrow, and kicking her heel with his own.

“Lizzie,” she hissed back at him, her eyes threatening that she might start laughing again.

“Right,” he smiled. “Did I ever tell you about the time I dressed up as a-–"

“Not now,” she said, rolling her eyes, and swigging back the last of her drink. “Let’s go dance, Lizabeth. Unless you don’t think you can in those heels.”

“Are you challenging my moves?” the Doctor picked up his own drink and tried to walk after her gracefully.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor needs some rescuing. Luckily the Captain likes what he sees.

“Hold up!” a man grabbed the Doctor’s arm before they made it into the dance room. “You’re not allowed back there!”

Donna happened to glance behind her, and could see the Doctor–-Liz–-being detained. She smirked as the Doctor gave his best pout. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Donna made a mental note to learn some feminine wiles off her Doctor, but for the moment, it looked like the tough girl act was up to her alone. “Oi, leave your hands off her,” Donna broke in. “She’s with me.” 

“Oh, it’s two of you, is it?” The guy said, looking down at her. “Well, you’re all right,” he said, realizing she really was a woman–-and again, staring at her breasts. She wished she’d worn something a little less revealing, but then again, getting attention had been the purpose for tonight. 

“You got to follow the rules,” he said, leaning into the Doctor’s face. “Only ladies below my height are allowed on this ride.” 

“Well, if I take off my heels--“ the Doctor smiled. 

Donna stared at him. She’d seen races of creatures from other worlds turn tail and run from her Doctor, and here he was, letting some primitive bloke step all over him. Then the Doctor threw her a wink, with his paste-on lashes and a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth, and she realized he was having too much fun. “Donna, go ahead,” he said. “This good man here just needs a thing or two explained.” And he looked the man up and down with disdain, as the man just crossed his burly arms and glared.

Oh--but the Doctor was thick if he thought Donna’d just leave him to fight this one alone. “Now just hold on a minute,” she started.

But another voice broke in-–a firm, strong voice from a man walking in off the dance floor. “There a problem, Rick?”

“No, sir. I was just explaining our policy to this freak.”

The man’s height matched the Doctor’s–-and Donna saw an almost-frightened look pass over the Doctor’s face as he set eyes on this bloke–-on his chiselled face, strong chin, military hair cut–-a bloke like that could really fuck someone up if he wanted to. Possibly by just looking gorgeous. Donna bit her lip. 

“What policy?” the handsome man asked. Then his gaze caught the Doctor, and he just stared for a second, then let his eyes travel up and down. “My kind of freak,” he smiled. 

“Jack, we have standards in this place,” said Rick.

“She’s definitely up to my standards,” the man called Jack grinned, not moving his eyes from the Doctor’s. “I’d be happy to keep an eye on her.”

And to Donna’s shock, Jack took the Doctor’s arm, and led him inside the dance floor. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re responsible for her, then!” the other man called. 

Donna restrained the urge to kick him. “And you’re responsible for bein’ an arse,” she told him. It wasn’t the greatest comeback she’d ever delivered, but it would have to do.

She glanced back toward the bar and tables. They’d attracted attention, including the man she’d been checking out earlier. Well, now wasn’t the time to chat him up. Donna turned and sauntered back to the dance floor, trying to follow the Doctor and his new protector. 

What had made her agree to this debacle? Surely she should’ve known that taking the Doctor out in drag would lead to the most ridiculous night ever. 

The handsome bloke spun the Doctor around, and Donna was impressed by the turn he did in those heels. He was a natural, and clearly enjoying the attention. Donna shuddered to think how many nights she’d slept on the Tardis, while the Doctor walked around the corridors in drag. 

How had she not known that he fancied blokes?

Now this fellow was leaning in, lifting the Doctor’s arms in the air, and they were dancing. The bass thrummed around her, and she caught herself moving her hips too, involuntarily. 

She gasped as she realized-–here she was, in the club with the Doctor, not even a gay club, and she wasn’t the one who had been picked up by a handsome bloke. As she started to turn away, the Doctor looked over and grinned at her, with a little wink, and his partner waved too.

She shook her head with a little huff and turned away.

\----

“Nice to meet you. I’m Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Call me Liz,” the Doctor answered in falsetto, with a smile. “Thanks for the quick rescue, Jack. Not that I needed it.”

Jack twirled him around and looked him up and down. “You’re welcome, Liz. Though I’m sure you could have shoved one of those fabulous heels in that douchebag’s chest and had done with him.”

“That’s a bit violent.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 

Jack leaned in close and moved to start dancing. “What brings you in here tonight? This place isn’t exactly--”

“My friend needed a night on the town. On the prowl for a bloke.” The Doctor nodded over at Donna, who was standing at the edge of the dance hall, looking ravishing and completely bewildered. 

The Doctor felt Jack’s eyes turn beside his own. His own eyes grazed over Donna's tight skirt, low tank top, barely hiding her full figure. She wouldn’t be standing on the sidelines long, he thought.

Jack just laughed. “You dressed up in drag just to get your friend laid?”

“Weeeell,” the Doctor said, beginning to move, to dance. “She didn’t want me around as a bloke.”

“So,” Jack said, leaning in with a grin. “Are there aliens in our midst? You trying to hide from something?”

“Are you a nutter?” The Doctor tried to look sceptical. “Aliens?” 

Jack just laughed at him, like he couldn't believe what he'd heard. The Doctor had been recognized. He started to pull away, but Jack grasped his waist and leaned in. “My god, you do have hips in there somewhere,” he laughed. 

His palms moved over the Doctor’s waist and lower back, his thumbs circling the Doctor’s hip bones. The Doctor looked over his partner’s shoulder. “Jack, I didn’t think–“

“You didn’t think I recognized you?” Jack nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m hiding too. From that guy–-dark-skinned, around five-ten, over there?”

Jack turned him around, and the Doctor followed his gaze. “The one Donna had her eye on.”

“Came home with me last night,” Jack said. “He’s been in here every night this week–-picking up men, picking up women. Trying to figure out if he’s gay.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“He’s not,” Jack said. “And I don’t want to be the one to break it to him. Donna should take him home and set his mind straight.”

The Doctor shook his head and laughed. “You’re up to no good as usual, Captain, I can see that much.”

“Hey, I saved your skinny ass once already tonight.”

“Did you?” the Doctor answered. “But where’s Donna got off to? I should be keeping an eye on her.”

“Don’t trust your companion to look after herself?”

“Weeelll--”

“Come on, Liz. People are watching. Let’s have some fun with them,” Jack grinned, dropping his hands around to the Doctor’s bum, dancing even closer.

The Doctor chuckled. Trust Captain Jack to make this fun. And sexy. He let himself sink into Jack’s embrace, moving with the music. They were nose to nose, looking in each other’s eyes. 

Then Jack moved his face in and kissed him-–their first proper kiss since the Gamestation. The Doctor pulled away. “Not like this, Jack.”

“Relax. Everyone watching us? They’re loving it.” Jack spun him around, pressing his chest against the Doctor’s back, and grasping his hips with strong fingers. “See for yourself.” 

Jack’s lips brushed his neck, and the Doctor let his head fall back slightly, his eyes half closed, with a groan that was lost in the music. Across the room, he saw people watching them out of the corners of their eyes, but he didn’t mind, not really. His eyes scanned the floor, until he found Donna at the side of the room. With another drink in her hand, she was laughing with three blokes, including the one she’d fancied earlier. 

Jack’s voice was loud in his ear, despite the bass thumping around them. “Does your friend usually fall for the guys who consort with aliens?” 

The Doctor turned his head so Jack could hear him, and ended up with his lips nearly on Jack’s cheek. “That’s how I met her.” 

So that was it. They weren’t dancing. Jack was out hunting some alien threat. “I stumbled across those two a week ago,” Jack told him. “Blue, glowing blobs hiding in human bodies. I’d lost everything. Torchwood’s gone. I just wanted one last night on the town, before I left this messed-up planet. And I found them.”

“Torchwood--gone?” The Doctor frowned, turning back to look at him. 

“Later,” Jack warned, his eyes flashing. The Doctor recognized that look–-something broken, hurting behind Jack’s easy humor. 

“But what happened?”

“Save it.” Jack just gritted his teeth, glancing over the Doctor’s shoulder, then holding his gaze, and holding his waist with iron hands. “Looks like Donna’s got things under control. For now. Just dance with me, all right?”

The Doctor nodded. He felt Jack’s heat on his body, Jack’s thumbs rubbing circles through the back of his dress, and the beat moving through him as he tried to move with it. Then the song changed, and Jack slid a hand down the Doctor’s arm and grasped his hand.

“Time to move,” Jack said, with a tug. The Doctor shivered with his touch. Jack pulled him toward the back door. The Doctor could feel people watching as he followed on Jack’s heels–-but he was used to people watching. 

They passed Donna, and she was dancing with the man she’d fancied, her arms over her head and losing herself to the music. The Doctor noticed her breasts bouncing in a fantastic way.

Jack pulled him into the loo, and the music was suddenly muted as the door shut behind him. “Tell me what’s going on,” the Doctor said. “Captain?”

“Tell me you have something sonic, in that delicious dress,” Jack answered, spinning around to look at him.

“Oh, yes!” grinned the Doctor.

“Perfect. Hold that thought.” Jack put his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders and pushed him against the wall, leaning in to kiss him, hard. 

After a moment of shock, the Doctor gave in, returning the kiss, reaching out with his tongue. Jack gripped his waist, and thrust his hips forward gently, and the Doctor tried to reach his arms around Jack to pull him closer. It had been so long since he felt this man’s body against his own–-and to be honest, in this body it was all new.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot deepens. Or maybe that's just the kissing.

Jack’s tongue plunged in the Doctor’s mouth, and he tasted like scotch and cologne. The Doctor gripped Jack’s back, pressing him closer. In return, Jack pushed him further against the bathroom wall. The tile was cold and hard, a shock against the Doctor’s back. He moaned. How did women put up with such flimsy outfits?

The door opened, the music thrumming through. Two figures passed by toward the stalls, and adrenalin pumped through the Doctor's veins. They could see Jack pressed against him, his own arms around Jack’s back, his heels against the floor–-but they kept walking, and the stalls shut. The Doctor closed his eyes-–he didn’t care who saw this, anyway, didn’t want to stop-- 

But Jack pulled away, with a finger at his lips. “Sh!” 

The Doctor swallowed. “What!”

Without turning his head, Jack looked over toward the stalls. In a voice loud enough to overhear, he said, “This isn’t the best place for this. Let’s go back to my place!” He opened the door, but he didn’t move. Music thrummed in, then he let the door close again with a slam. Slowly he reached for a gun strapped under his coat. The Doctor fumbled in his clutch for his screwdriver. Jack nodded with a grim smile. 

Finally the stalls opened-–without a flush of the toilets-–and the Doctor saw a blue glow reflect off the bathroom tile. Two slimey blobs oozed out of the stalls. “Raformata!” The Doctor said.

Jack nodded. “Every night, one or two people come in here and go missing. Under Galactic Code 871, you are forbidden from consuming _homo sapiens_ on Earth. We’ve been tracking you all week. This ends here.”

One of the Raformata made a belching, squelching noise, and the Doctor waved Jack’s gun away. He growled back in their language. “I’m the Doctor. You leave this Earth, never to return, you live. Stay here, Jack has his way, and you’ll be slime on the floor.”

The Raformata growled in reply and continued advancing on them. If Jack didn’t shoot, he and the Doctor might be sucked down whole and turned to jelly in another minute or two. “Do it!” the Doctor shouted, blasting his screwdriver at the blue beasts–-for all the good it would do.

Then Jack opened fire, and soon the Reformata’s blue fat was splattered backwards onto the walls and floor. “Oh, nasty!” Jack said. “Like a night of blue curacao projectile vomiting!”

“Remind me to never drink anything that color!” the Doctor grimaced, flinching. “Yeuughh! Is that all of them?”

“Far as I can tell, just the two, stranded from their pod.” Jack grinned, twirled his gun, and raised a flirty eyebrow at the Doctor. “Good work, Doctor.”

“Stranded?” 

Jack nodded. 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” The Doctor rubbed his neck. “We could have taken them home. They were probably just trying to survive.”

Jack bristled at the sudden criticism. “I wasn’t expecting you to pop in, Lizzie.” His voice had turned dark, with a touch of derision.

The Doctor flushed. He was on Jack’s territory, not the other way around. And he’d shown up, like this. He swallowed hard. Jack just pushed his gun back in its holster.

“And I expect better from you,” the Doctor finally answered. 

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but the Doctor turned on his heel, dropping the screwdriver back in his clutch. He pulled out his lipstick and touched up his face in the mirror. And then, the Doctor was a diva again-–heels clacking on the floor as he walked out the door. Jack followed him back out to the dance floor and clutched his arm. “Don’t do this.”

The Doctor looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Do what?”

Jack swallowed. “Just don’t…get all high-horse with me. Not over this.”

The Doctor shook his head, and all the fight left his voice. “No. Suppose not.” 

“Where were we when we really needed you, Doc?” Jack sounded hurt more than angry.

The Doctor crossed his arms and leaned backwards on the wall. “Tell me what happened.”

Jack swallowed, his eyes looking over the crowd, not answering. “Later.” He nodded out toward Donna, still dancing with her handsome bloke. “Looks like she’s met her match.”

“Right.” The Doctor reached up to run a hand through his hair, remembered the wig, and twirled the strands between his fingers. Jack raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Humans, dancing,” mused the Doctor. “All those pheremones and hair spray and flashy lights.” His lips still tingled–-all that dancing and _kissing._

“Feeling out of your element, Doc?” Jack tried to laugh. He reached out and rested his hand against the Doctor’s back. The Doctor felt his warmth through his dress and tried not to shiver.

“Sooo.” The Doctor shifted his weight. “All the dancing, earlier, was that all just a diversion tactic? Bide time? Lure out the alien threat?”

“No,” Jack said. “That was protecting you. You always surprise me, Doc.”

“Captain Harkness thinks I need protecting, now?”

Jack chuckled. “Next time we’ll hit the Castro in San Francisco,” he said. “Where people appreciate how gorgeous you are.”

“I–-what?” the Doctor stuttered.

“Right now, we’re being watched. Let’s move.” Jack tugged his arm and pulled the Doctor back out onto the dance floor, then twirled around so they were chest-to-chest. 

More dancers crowded the floor now, and the Doctor felt all those moving bodies near him, full of sweat and heat. He could smell sex and jealousy and a hundred other things in the stuffy air. Jack’s hands strayed down to his hips again. Could it be-–Jack wanted to dance with him, even without an alien problem to solve? 

The Doctor let his arms fall around Jack’s waist, and tried to let himself move fluidly with the music. His tongue grazed his upper teeth as he concentrated on dancing-–it wasn’t something he did very often. Jack smiled appreciatively, and then looked over his shoulder. The Doctor wasn’t sure where to look-–wanted to watch Jack’s face, but settled for looking over his shoulder, then at his shoulder, then his eyes met Jack’s again.

Jack grinned and leaned in against his ear. “Liz?” he breathed, and pulled back to look at the Doctor, with a sly smile on his face. 

“Jack?” the Doctor breathed back. Jack squeezed his bum, and pressed their hips together. 

The Doctor groaned as the flimsy dress clung to him, and the fabric of Jack’s trousers encircled him. 

“Tardis?” Jack’s voice hissed in his ear. 

“What?” Surely Jack couldn’t want–-oh, the Doctor thought, looking at the glint in Jack’s eyes and the uncertain tilt of his mouth–-but he did. “Ah.” The Doctor nodded and tugged Jack’s hand, as they moved back out of the crowd, toward the front door. He waved to Donna. She stopped and gaped when she saw Jack following him. Jack waved back, and the Doctor knew he was winking at her.

They moved back through the bar, and out the front door. “Blimey, I’m deaf now,” the Doctor said, his ears ringing as they stepped out into street. 

“I know,” Jack laughed. “It’s worse than the sonic.”

Then they were quiet. Jack stayed a step behind him. It had rained and the pavement was glistening wet, sparkling under the street lamps. His heels clicked, and he rather liked the sound.

“So Lizzie,” Jack said, sneaking an arm around the Doctor’s waist, “Can I go home with you tonight?”

The Doctor shot him a smile. “Was hoping you might do.”

“There’s a lot of things I’d love to do to you,” Jack murmured against him.

The Doctor swayed his hips and leaned into the Captain. Oh yes, he had found his real man for the evening. He chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Galactic Code 871? You're making up intergalactic laws at whim, now?"

Jack just shrugged. "Had to say something, Doc. The gun took care of the rest."

The Doctor was silent. He didn't want to argue--Jack just made it so easy. But Jack turned to him. "Tell me you'd rather be taking me home, than those blue vomit beasties."

"Oh, yes!" The Doctor smiled and gripped his fingers tighter around the Captain's waist. "All your time agency training hasn't even begun to prepare you for all the places I'm going to take you, Captain."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times, with a tinge of sadness.

The Tardis door slammed behind them, and Jack slammed his Doctor against the wall with a sloppy, ferocious kiss. 

“Heels make you taller,” he grinned then, as he pulled away.

“Inevitably.”

Jack tilted his face up and waited for the Doctor to lean in and take the next kiss. The Doctor felt Jack’s chest rise and fall, and flicked a tentative tongue along his lips, then inside his mouth. He felt Jack’s fingers grazing the bottom edge of his dress. 

“Love the outfit,” said Jack, when the Doctor broke the kiss.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “This old thing?”

Jack nodded. “Have a spare bedroom?”

The Doctor nodded and led the way. Evidently, Jack really did love the dress-–or what it revealed--because his hands strayed as they walked down the corridor.

The Doctor stopped suddenly, feeling a pull from a closed door. “Tardis made us a room,” he said. Inside, the walls were green, matching the Tardis console, and the bed had a coral bed frame matching the coral struts of the console room, with simple, bright-white sheets. A dim glow shone out from the walls.

“Gorgeous,” Jack said. He dropped his coat on the chair, and reached for the Doctor. 

Their mouths met again, and Jack’s fingers wrapped around his neck. Then he pulled back and just looked, taking in the Doctor’s dark brown eyes, framed and shadowed by the make-up, and his flushed cheeks. The Doctor looked back into Jack’s blue eyes, thinking how intense Jack always looked. 

The hard lines around his eyes and mouth were the only sign of Jack’s age. His physiology and timelines were all wrong–-and yet, the Doctor had to admit now, it was so, so right. They were matched, regeneration to immortality. Lifetimes of sorrow, regret, and war in common. And the stars, the ever-glimmering, beautiful stars that brought adventure around every corner.

Jack broke the silence. “Lizzie, huh? Why Liz?”

The Doctor dropped his eyes. “I don’t know anyone by that name?”

“You didn’t do this for Donna’s benefit,” Jack accused him with a wicked smile. “You’ve dressed up before.”

“I can change, if you like. Pinstripes?” The Doctor turned away, dropping his face.

“Hell, no. Doctor–-Liz?” Jack took his arm, and pulled him back around.

The Doctor smiled, still not meeting his eyes. “Who do you want me to be?”

Jack laughed, wrapping his hands around the Doctor’s shoulders. “The dress, the voice–-it’s all part of you,” he said, stroking long circles around the Doctor’s neck with his thumbs. “Doc, I just want you to be comfortable with this.” 

The Doctor nodded, flipping the hair over his shoulder, and slipped back into falsetto. “Well, Jack, how do you like your women?”

Jack smiled and ran his hands down the Doctor’s arms. “Sensual.” He ran fingers down the Doctor’s neck and shoulder, then pressed a kiss to the Doctor’s neck. “Lickable.” 

Jack sucked on his neck, sinking in teeth, and then licking the tender area with a long stroke of his tongue. The Doctor gasped. 

“Responsive,” he mumbled against the Doctor’s shoulder. The Doctor’s hands strayed over Jack’s shirt and down his trousers.

Jack braced him against the tall struts at the foot of the bed, his hands hovering at the lower edge of the dress. “Great legs,” Jack whispered, lightly brushing his thighs. 

Then he slowly turned the Doctor around. The Doctor clutched the foot of the bed, feeling Jack’s hands slide down his back and reach under the dress to cup his bum. The Doctor leaned back into him, letting his eyes flutter shut. He could hear them both breathing, loudly, and feel Jack hard in his trousers against him. Jack’s hands moved around him, sliding up his stomach and across his chest. He cupped the bust experimentally. 

“Fifty-first century silica,” the Doctor mumbled.

“Of course,” Jack said. “You’d only have the best.”

And he ran his hands slowly down to the Doctor’s hip bone, stroking inward toward his thighs. The Doctor shuddered, pushing his hips forward into Jack’s hand and reaching back to clutch at the side of Jack’s trousers. He felt like he’d been hard all night, trying to hide it, and now he couldn’t wait to be touched. 

But Jack’s voice was detached. “Theory,” he said, “You’ve dressed as a woman because it’s safer on some planets, but you never thought you’d want this. Am I right?”

“Not just safer,” the Doctor said, “It’s the only way to fit in on some planets. And for a Time Lord who needs to investigate--”

Jack’s breath was hot on his ear. “Save the lecture, Doc.”

The Doctor clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. “That was all of it.” God, his mouth could go off, when all he really wanted was silence. 

“Good.” Jack held the Doctor still for a moment, resting a hand on the Doctor’s stomach. Then traced the Doctor’s thighs along the bottom of the dress again. “Who’s my queen tonight?” he said.

“Jack!” the Doctor moaned, trying to turn his face away. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Jack told him. “Who’s my queen?”

“Me,” he squeaked.

“Yeah. Who are you?”

“Lizabeth.”

“Right, Liz,” Jack whispered. “Good girl.”

The Doctor swallowed and turned around. “Stop talking, Jack,” he growled. 

He started undoing Jack’s shirt buttons, trying to ignore how hard Jack was studying him. He felt certain Jack could sense his fingers twitching, and the goose pimples on his arms and legs-–and they weren’t from cold, because the Tardis controlled the temperature carefully, according to his needs.

He kicked off his heels, and then he pulled Jack’s shirt off over his shoulders and ran his fingers across Jack’s chest, plucking his nipples, kissing his neck. He bit and kissed his way down Jack’s chest and stomach, leaving a faint trail of lipstick marks. Jack groaned, his head tilted up with his strong chin jutting out, but he laughed when he looked down and saw the streaks. 

The Doctor felt Jack’s arms tug at his shoulders, pulling him back up along Jack’s body. Jack leaned down to kiss him, tucking his tongue in and around the Doctor’s mouth, cupping his face with warm hands. Jack slid his hands up the Doctor’s thighs, pulling the dress with him, all the way up his stomach, his torso, and over his arms and shoulders. 

Quickly, the Doctor tugged the button and pushed Jack’s trousers and pants to the floor. 

Jack reached up and rubbed the black hair of the wig between his fingers. “Not sure black’s your colour,” he said. He moved slowly to lift the wig, looking in the Doctor’s eyes for consent. 

The Doctor nodded, and Jack gently lifted it off and set it down nearby.

Then he took the Doctor’s hand. “Come on,” and they lay down together in bed. The Doctor reached for Jack’s mouth, licking Jack’s lips, and felt Jack’s fingers run up his neck and through his hair. He started to pull Jack’s hips closer, but Jack pulled away for a moment, panting. 

The Doctor feared he looked like a clown, with his reddened lips and dark eye shadow, and his hair crazy from being under the wig. But Jack didn’t seemed to mind-–in fact, the Doctor saw an awe in his face he’d never seen there before. 

“You’re beautiful.” Jack’s voice was husky, and he reached down and started stroking the Doctor, rubbing their bodies together. 

The Doctor groaned. This was their first time since the regeneration, and before then it was just his ugly old face with the big nose. They’d been rough, driven by lust, and driven by their rivalry over Rose. This tenderness, slowness, talking–-this was something else entirely. 

Jack leaned in to kiss the Doctor again, and pushed the Doctor down on the bed. With every stroke of Jack’s hand, the Doctor groaned. Without letting go, Jack spit into his other hand and started stroking the Doctor’s balls, then lower, pressing against his opening. 

“Ready?”

The Doctor forced his eyes open. “Yeah.” He licked his lips and swallowed. “Yes.” 

He reached out and stroked Jack, pulling him closer, until Jack slid inside. They both groaned and then started to move against each other. The Doctor pushed his head back, feeling his strangled moans echoing around the room, and Jack grunting above him. 

The Doctor reached to stroke himself, but Jack was faster, slapping his hands away. “That’s my job, princess.”

When Jack wrapped a warm hand around his throbbing cock, the Doctor arched his back further and clutched the sheets. He looked up to see Jack’s face contorted, as he pushed forward on his knees, thrusting in–-for a moment, like he was somewhere else entirely. Then he opened his eyes, and his look had changed to one of immutable sadness. 

The Doctor pushed himself up on his elbows, “What is it?” 

Jack leaned back down to press a kiss to the Doctor’s lips. “Torchwood. Gone. Ianto.” He blinked back tears. “Sorry.”

The Doctor nodded. He remembered the brilliant young people of Torchwood–-but now wasn’t the time for grief. 

“Hey,” the Doctor answered, reaching up for Jack’s hand. “Remember the crab nebula? All those gases, floating away from each other-–beautiful? Everything growing distant, getting lost? Making room for something new, something amazing?”

Jack nodded, “Yeah, Doc.” 

The Doctor snaked one arm around Jack’s waist, and pulled him closer, pressing him inside deeper. Jack groaned. “That’s us now,” said the Doctor. “Something new. Amazing.” 

“Gas and burning?” Jack flashed a smile-–mocking-–trying to recapture their light banter.

“No,” the Doctor laughed. “Beauty and light.” 

“Waves of heat.” Jack answered, serious again, seductive.

“Expanding,” the Doctor said, pulling his hips away. 

Jack groaned, and reached down to place one more kiss on the Time Lord’s throat, pushing back into him.

“Do it,” the Doctor whimpered.

The Doctor had laughed when Jack said “burning,” but oh, did it burn-–but he couldn’t stop. Jack pushed his full length into the Time Lord, pulled out, and thrust in again. Over and over, faster, and harder, they pushed into each other. Soon Jack was panting and gasping, shouting meaninglessly at the wall, and the Doctor felt Jack’s hot cum seep in and around him. Jack collapsed against the Doctor for a moment. The Doctor stroked his back with light fingertips. 

Without lifting himself up, Jack reached between them and squeezed the Doctor’s cock. “You ready?” 

“Oh yes,” the Doctor sighed up at the ceiling.

Jack stroked him in rhythm, slow and then faster. So fast, the Doctor shivered and twitched uncontrollably. He clung to Jack and cried out as he came, spurting across Jack’s belly. He kept his grip on Jack’s shoulders as he recovered, panting, his eyes firmly closed. 

“Never knew you to be quite so submissive,” Jack smiled at him as they finally pulled apart a minute or two later.

“It is a bit, well, new.” 

“Need a shower,” Jack laughed, pulling away, but the Doctor kept hold of his hand.

“Not yet.” 

Jack sat back on the bed, something in the Doctor’s face holding him there. The Doctor wasn’t smiling–-his mouth pressed together, eyes wide–-serious and almost sad. He pulled Jack down in another firm embrace. “Stay a minute.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, lifting his arms to stroke the Doctor’s back. “Anything you need, love.” 

The Doctor’s grip was firm on his arms, his face pressed against Jack’s shoulder, and Jack rocked his Time Lord back and forth, wondering if something terrible had happened to him again to make him this vulnerable. Or maybe, trying on a new role for a night had given him permission to be a bit clingy.

“You all right?”

The Doctor lifted his head immediately, his face split in a wide grin. “Oh, yes, Jack. Oh yes.” He pulled Jack close for a deep kiss, then practically jumped off the bed. “Ready to find out what my companion has got up to?”

Jack chuckled. “Sure she wants you to find out?”

“Shower first, anyway–-come on.”

\---

The Doctor emerged in pinstriped trousers and his shirtsleeves. Jack wasn’t sure how he’d scrubbed all traces of that eyeliner off, but he didn’t say anything-–just accepted the hand that was offered and followed along toward the console. 

He lounged in the chair in just his trousers, watching the Doctor work his magic, dancing around. He reached up to flick some buttons with his toes–-he was barefoot-–then reached over and flicked some dials with his fingers, then jammed a button with his other foot. “Couldn’t do that in a dress!” the Time Lord grinned. 

“I’ll bet!” Jack said. The Doctor was long and lanky, spring-loaded with energy, and Jack was enjoying the view. It felt reassuring to see him back to his old self–unstoppable, down-to-business, and brimming with confidence.

“Four life signs on board,” the Doctor said, peering at the monitor. “Two right here, the others showing increased heart rate and high body temperature.” He wagged his eyebrows and spun around with a hyper, happy energy that Jack hadn’t seen in a long time. “Just what Donna ordered.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jack said, but he couldn’t stifle a yawn. 

The Doctor’s face fell.

“Sorry, Doc, I guess I’m beat.”

“I see,” the Doctor hesitated by the Console.

“Mind if I crash here for the night?”

“’Course you’re staying. Aren’t you?” His smile had shut down again, his face blank, and he crossed his arms.

Jack stepped over and leaned against him. “As long as you’ll let me, Doc.” He kissed the Doctor’s cheek, and the Doctor turned his face, to kiss his mouth. 

“I haven’t got anything left but you,” Jack said with a heavy sigh, taking his hand. 

The Doctor grinned. “Brilliant! No,” his smile dropped. “Not brilliant. Just-–I’d love you to stay.” He squeezed the hand holding his own. 

Jack nodded. “Thanks.” He felt emotionally exhausted–-hadn’t really dealt with the loss of Torchwood, and now he’d found the Doctor, but his Time Lord was being strangely needy. Things could be worse-–in times past, the Doctor would have just as soon shucked him off into the Vortex as let him on board. Or could it be, he just was learning how to read the Doctor’s mixed signals, finally? 

Jack just wanted to sleep it all off and hope everything felt less surreal in the morning.

“Your old room’s still around,” the Doctor said. “Want that one?”

Jack shook his head. “Too many memories.” 

“New room then?”

Jack nodded.

The Doctor led him back down the hall, and to Jack’s surprise, followed him inside and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Staying with me?” Jack asked, pulling off his trousers.

“If you don’t mind?” Again the Doctor’s face went blank, his eyes wide and mouth pressed in a thin line, looking utterly insecure. 

Had his Time Lord always felt that way? 

“Please,” Jack gestured to the other side of the bed, as he fell onto it. “I’d be honoured.”

The Time Lord slowly removed the rest of his clothing again, folding everything neatly over a chair, and settled into bed. “Probably not all night-–I don’t sleep much.”

“I remember,” Jack mumbled, as the Doctor curled up against him. Jack breathed in the Doctor’s hair and ran his fingers over the alien’s shoulders, feeling the cool breath against his chest-–and then his mind was floating down distant stars.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final cozy breakfast chapter.

The Doctor hummed to himself, making a mess of the kitchen and baking banana scones and sausages the next morning. Cooking for four! He hadn’t done that in a while. Since–-well, he didn’t want to think about since.

Jack came down first, planted a swift kiss on his cheek, and set about doing some of the washing up. Jack had always had a fine hand with a dish towel. They didn’t talk, both remembering other times. 

Then they both spoke at the same time–-

“You left Rose in another universe-–?“

“All of Torchwood–-Ianto-–they’re gone--?”

“Yes,” they said at the same time, grabbing for each other’s hands. 

“We’re survivors,” Jack said.

“They were all survivors,” the Doctor said.

“Yet they didn’t.”

The moment was broken by a clattering in the corridor-–footsteps and Donna’s voice. 

“So I told ‘im, ‘a girl has needs,’ I said, and what was the poor bloke to do?” Her laughter pealed down the hallway.

Jack and the Doctor dropped their hands guiltily and turned away from each other. The Doctor pulled a pan of browned scones from the oven and turned off the heat on the sausages. Jack hung the dishtowel back up, as Donna stepped in with her bloke. “Morning.”

“Morning,” said the Doctor. “Hello.”

“Good morning-–Liz, was it?” the man asked, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m Kevin.”

The Doctor blushed furiously. “I’m the Doctor. Last night was–-" 

Kevin smiled and nodded, “Doctor. Don’t worry about it.” Then he was looking around, and his face twisted into a look of disbelief. “If it isn’t Captain Jack Harkness.”

“So it is,” Jack said, with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

The Doctor was looking at Donna. “A blindfold, I said, Donna,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kevin said, “I haven’t a clue. ‘Some ship in the bay,’ she said. And then the blindfold. Who am I to argue, especially after I saw you two last night.” He winked. 

“Us two, do what exactly?” Jack stood up to his full height. 

“Go after those blue-–er, creatures. Aliens?” the man shrugged. “I’ve been chasing them for a week, since I noticed folks disappearing.”

Donna looked confused, and angry at being confused. “Blue aliens?”

“We met a few strays last night,” the Doctor explained, as he moved the sausages onto a plate. “Preparing to dine on some unfortunate humans. Jack pureed them to blue, squishy death.”

“That’s what you were up to?” she said, looking back and forth between them. “Well, you could’a fooled me. What with the–-the dancing, and the skip-to-the-loo, my darling?”

“You know,” Jack said, grinning hugely. “I don’t think we’ve met, Donna Noble. I’m Jack. Old friend of the Doctor’s.”

Donna looked to the Doctor for confirmation, and he nodded. “Jack recognized me last night.” He ruffled a hand through his hair. “That’s why he–-er-–intervened.”

“I told him, he looked fabulous,” Jack said.

“He did,” Kevin agreed. “But how did you get those creatures? I couldn’t find a way to confront them without being sucked into squishy death myself.”

“The old fashioned way,” Jack shrugged, and pulled out his gun. “Blew ‘em to pieces.” 

The man shook his head, laughing. “All those hours I chatted you up to get information. But you didn’t give away any clues, and then, well–-I thought you were hanging around just for fun.” 

“Fun, sure. It was fun, wasn’t it?” Jack winked. “But I do hunt aliens on the side. It’s kind of my scene.”

“Your scene?” The man’s eyes flickered between Jack and the Doctor.

The Doctor ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “It’s a career, not a _kink._ ”

“I thought you were trying to discover yourself,” Jack laughed suddenly. “Didn’t want to be the one to tell you--you aren’t gay.”

“Not news,” Kevin said, stirring a cup of tea the Doctor had handed him. “Not really.”

Jack nodded. “Well done. We fooled each other, I guess.”

“Good on us,” Kevin laughed, meeting Jack’s gaze across the table. “I don’t have any regrets though.”

Jack just grinned widely. “Glad to hear it.”

“Doctor!” Donna spoke up. 

“Donna, have a scone,” the Doctor said, handing a tray to her. “They’re just cooling, be careful.”

“Doctor!” Donna took the tray and set it down with a thunk on the table. “I just wanted a night out to meet someone, and now there’s aliens, and you, and these blokes went home together the other night?”

The Doctor saw Jack trying not to laugh.

“Hey, Donna!” Kevin took her hand. “Didn’t I show you a good time last night?”

Donna blushed. “Yeah, but–-"

“Then sit down, and let your friends feed you.”

“I like this one,” Jack remarked. “But don’t worry, Donna. He’s all yours.”

So they settled in together. Jack felt a hand on his thigh as the Doctor sat down next to him, across from Donna and Kevin. 

“Doctor, only you would think banana scones are a good idea,” Donna said as she bit into one. 

“Bananas are good,” Jack said. “Potassium, right?” 

“Mmm,” the Doctor answered, biting into a scone of his own that he’d slathered in butter. He was just enjoying the chatter in his kitchen. A holiday from all the death-defying holidays, isn’t that what Donna had asked for? And that was exactly the prescription they had all needed.


End file.
